


ain't nobody gonna get the best of me

by gottabewhattomarrowneeds



Category: Danger Days: The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Album), The True Lives of the Fabulous Killjoys (Comic)
Genre: Canon Compliant, Gen, Hell yeah., Mentions of Sex, Mentions of Underage, Nonbinary Party Poison, Slight Transphobia, Strippers & Strip Clubs, also party kills pedophiles., anyways this gets kinda heavy?, as far as I can tell lol, fun ghoul gets nosy and gets more than he bargained for, hell yeah, its just mentioned in passing., jet star is shit at naming things, none of this goes into graphic detail., party worked at a strip club, yeah basically an origin story.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-14
Updated: 2019-06-14
Packaged: 2020-05-07 12:35:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19209547
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gottabewhattomarrowneeds/pseuds/gottabewhattomarrowneeds
Summary: Fun Ghoul learns the origins of Party Poison’s name. It’s not a family friendly story.





	ain't nobody gonna get the best of me

**Author's Note:**

> okay so. pls read this.
> 
> There’s no actual non-con elements, but some situations could be read as such? it’s up to your interpretation but I did not write it with that in mind.
> 
> they say no, and while people get angry, there’s no actual acts of sex. they do get brutally attacked for saying no, though.

It was quiet.

In the desert, it was always quiet. The only sounds of life were the occasional howls from the meagre amount of fereal coyotes that managed to withstand the apocalyptic nuclear fire and the intense hunting that occurred when people migrated into the desert. You only heard those howls when you were lost, when you wondered the desert in the dead of night, when you had nothing but your wits and maybe a flashlight to guide you.

Otherwise, you would only hear the whispers of the desert wind, of sand storms turning near formative. Sometimes, if you listened very closely, you could hear the scratching of claws at your front door. The Phoenix Witch, scraping Her hand on your home, eager to get in.

Fun Ghoul hates the silence.

It was really the only thing he hated about the desert. He could hand the god awful heat, the acid rain that would pour down at the worst of times, the scavaging vultures that would peak at you despite you not being dead, like they knew it was soon to be your time and were simply getting a head start. He could handle the squadrons of BLi soldiers trampling around, the raids they had to carefully plan to gather supplies, the firefights with Korse.

He shifted on the ground, listening as hard as he could to pick up any sound. He was lying on the floor of the diner, in the room that used to be a janitors closet but was now deemed his. Kobra and Poison shared the what had been freezer area, and Jet Star had snagged some sort of office part. They didn’t usually abide by these rules, of course- their divvying of rooms was more suggested than enforced.

He could hear the faint sounds of breathing from Kobra Kid, who was asleep in one of the booths. He must have knocked out while he was fiddling with the radio Ghoul and Poison has nearly smashed to bits in their last scuffle. They managed to salvage it, but it was stuck on one station, and the only song that ever played was ‘Dancing Queen’. It was funny the first couple of times, but now it was starting to piss them all off.

If he listened closely, he could hear Jet Star’s snoring from a few rooms away. The bastard couldn’t help it, but sometimes he was as loud as a freight train. Often times, someone would end up shaking him awake when he was too loud.

He laid there for a few moments, before sighing. He wasn’t going to be getting much sleep tonight, he could tell.

He felt an energy coursing through him, something electric. He wanted to expend it so he could just go to bed. He was too awake at two in the god damn morning.

Silently, he slipped out of his room and headed towards the diner’s front doors. Sometimes if he felt too couped up or if he couldn’t sleep, he’d head over to the back of the building and try some target practice. It helped sedate the buzzing energy.

He gently shut the door behind him and was about to head to the back when he nearly tripped over a black bump. He caught himself just before he nearly kicked it, and scrambled away as quickly as he could. A flash of red signaled who it was lying in front of the diner doors.

Party Poison was propped against the left door, and Ghoul was thankful he’d gone through the right. They were sitting up, leaning their full weight against the door, their arms crossed. He could see the small metal glint of the can’s keys in their left hand peaking out from under their jacket. Their eyes were closed, and their breathing was soft and steady, little puffs of white forming in the cold desert air.

Fun Ghoul watched them for a bit. It was rather rare to see Party asleep. They’d always had terrible insomnia, and often could be found painting at all hours of the night. Or, when they did sleep, they’d wake up screaming.

It was kind of weird to see them so peaceful. The car keys in their hand meant they had planned on going out for a late night drive, like they usually did when feeling particularly restless. Maybe they came back from it already, and decided to just spend the night outside.

“You gonna stand there all night, checking me out?” 

Ghoul jumped and let out a slight squeak. He saw Party shift their head, opening one eye to glance up at him, cocking an eyebrow.

“The hell! I thought you were sleeping!”

“Wishful thinking.” Party sat up, readjusting their position on the ground. “Well, don’t be a stranger. Sit with me.”

Ghoul did as told, and plopped on the ground next to them. “Whatcha doing out here, anyway?”

Party shrugged. “Couldn’t sleep. Went on a little drive to clear my head, came back, decided to do some stargazing, and tried to get some shut eye again. You?”

“Can’t sleep either. I’m just not tired.”

Party nodded. “Always full of energy, eh? Like a god damn battery or something.”

Ghoul elbowed his side. “Yeah, yeah. Ain’t you cold out here though? I just got out here and I’m freezing my ass off.”

“It’s nice.” They didn’t add anything to that.

Ghoul sat there with them, watching the stars, letting his mind drift. Of course, the sky was nearly black; all the stars were blocked out from the nuclear attack and the pollution from Battery City. Still, a few fragments of light managed to reach them, and it was still as brilliant as ever.

“Weird how quiet it can be,” Ghoul muttered.

Party glanced at him from the corner of their eye. “Yeah. With all the loudness that comes from firefights and when we visit that black market, the in between moments sure are kinda eerie quiet.”

“All the loudness of the day just kinda melts away.”

“Waxing poetry?” Party laughed. “But yeah, that’s the feeling.” They paused, and seemed to be thinking. “Is that why you can’t sleep? ‘Cause its too quiet?”

“Yeah, kind of...”

“Want me to tell you a story or something? Fill up the empty air?”

Ghoul tapped a finger to his chin, thinking. “Yeah. Go for it.”

Party Poison didn’t need to be told twice. They immediately dived into a tale of their exploits before the Fab Four has been banded, when they had met Cherri Cola for the first time. They had met up to settle some sort of turf war at a local rave. Apparently, a local gang was planning on attacking, and they were trying to figure out who it was.

It was actually a pretty interesting story. Ghoul would probably ask Cherri Cola about it some time, when they got the chance. He was always on runs, though, so catching him is usually hard to do.

Even so, Ghoul couldn’t help but let his mind wander. He kept think about Party Poison’s name. He repeated it in his mind several times until it sounded something foreign on his tongue. It didn’t fit them in the slightest.

Their story telling ability always managed to garner them attention. They were the center of attention at a party, usually telling vivid tales and executing perfect comedic timing. They were quite the opposite of a party poison when they managed to light up a room with just their words.

He’d always wondered where their name came from. Everybody else’s name origin was rather common knowledge.

Jet Star got his name from a gang he used to hang out with when he was younger. He’d always loved space, so they’d just call him Star, until they realized how fast he could run and how fast he could pull the trigger, and started to call him Jet. He decided to put the two together.

Kobra Kid got his name not long after he was in the desert. Show Pony nicknamed him that after watching him strangle several snakes. He was quite the snake wrangler, and still is. Plus, he has a glare that’s as venomous as a rattlesnake’s fangs.

And then Fun Ghoul. He had picked out his name because it sounded like the Italian word for ‘fuck you’. He didn’t want it to be too obvious, though, so he picked English words that sounded close enough. He was ‘fun’, and he had a knack for killing, so ‘ghoul’ felt appropriate. 

But he never did learn the story of Party Poison. They weren’t really supposed to ask; it was considered poor manners in the desert to ask about a person’s name, just like it was considered really shitty to ask them for their city name. Their desert name was who they are, and it was no body’s business to question it.

Still, it often made for fun discussion, swapping stories about their name origins. 

“So then the rival gang arrived, smashing down the doors to the club, and let me tell you, Cherri Cola has one of the fastest trigger fingers I’ve ever seen, despite him being a ‘pacifist’. He shot the leader right in the leg before anyone could react, but that only spurred the other gang into action. A gang war erupted within the building, and we had to start evacuating, telling people that this ain’t a party, get off the dance floor, here comes a gang war-“

“Hey,” Ghoul interrupted, and blurted- “how’d you get your name?”

Aw fuck.

Party blinked a few times, clearly taken by surprise, probably highly insulted. Fun Ghoul slammed his head against the diner door, groaning, and immediately began to back track. “Fuck, shit, I’m sorry man, I shouldn’t have asked that. You don’t have to answer, of course, but like-“

“Hey, chill out.” Party tossed a handful of sand at him, and Ghoul threw his hands up to block it. A coating of sand covered his jeans now. “Don’t wig out on me.”

“It was a shitty move.”

“Naw. It just kinda surprised me,” they flippantly said. “It’s not exactly a family friendly story though.”

Ghoul sent them a look. “I’m not fucking ten.”

“You look it-“ Ghoul elbowed them this time, hard- “ha! But seriously, it’s not a fun story.”

There was a serious expression gracing their face now, their jaw clenched tight. They were holding the keys almost like a weapon, their knuckles turning white with how tight they were gripping it. 

Ghoul sombered and said, “Hey, you don’t gotta tell me.”

Party’s grip relaxed, and the keys nearly fell ouf of their hand. They leaned their head back and closed their eyes, sucking in deep breaths. Ghoul sat next to them, watching, unsure about what to do now. An uncomfortable silence blanketed them, and Ghoul became acutely aware of every noise the managed to pierce the veil of night.

For a moment, he thought Party might have fallen asleep. Their breathing evened out, and they looked so relaxed. 

“You know, Kobra Kid an’ me didn’t breach Bat City together.”

Ghoul did know that. It was actually a frequent topic that sparked fights, mainly between him and Poison, and if he pushed hard enough, Kobra. He didn’t know why they didn’t leave together, and he desperately wanted to after he learned that they didn’t. Show Pony was shit for keeping secrets, and as soon as they slipped that Poison and Kobra didn’t leave at the same time, Ghoul was set on finding out why.

Admittedly, he didn’t go about it in the right way. He’d pick fights with them in the beginning, try to rile them up to get them to slip something. He knew damn well they wouldn’t just tell him, but he’d keep asking and asking and asking, until one day, Party just fucking snapped.

He’d pushed a bit too far, and Party whirled around, unholsering their gun, and sacked him upside the head with it. Ghoul was too surprised to even see it coming, and fell to the floor. Party then jumped on him like a fucking cat on a mouse, and started beating the shit out of him. It took a combined effort of Kobra Kid and Jet Star to peel them off of him, and Jet Star alone was pretty god damn strong.

It was not a fond memory. The look in Party’s eyes when they had straddled him- Ghoul was certain that that was it, he was going to die by the hands of his best friend, and he couldn’t even be that mad about it, because he kinda deserved it. There was fucking bloodlust behind that mask.

Ghoul spared a glance at Party, who’s eyes were still closed. “Yeah. I know.”

A pause. “Maybe one day I’ll tell you the story behind that. But anyway, Kobra Kid breached first, right? He left before I did. A few months later, I was able to get out of Bat City. 

“You see, there was this period of time between me breaching and me catching up to Kobra. The desert’s pretty fucking big, and while I searched as best I could, I couldn’t fucking find him. Mainly because he went by a different name here, and changed his appearance, and I had no fucking clue even where to begin. I didn’t know shit about desert life. 

“So I had to fend for myself, you know? Before I would be found by Show Pony, who was helping Kobra search for me, I was all alone. And there ain’t nothing free out here.

“So I...” Party opened their eyes, staring at their hands. They were absently fingering their key, hesitant about what they’re going to say next. “Well, I’ve always been told I was pretty, and I figured I could uh... I could use that to my advantage...”

Oh.

OH.

Ghoul had a feeling he knew where this was coming, and bit his tongue to keep his mouth shut. 

Party looked nervous. “I... needed money, you know? And I needed to get my name out there, so... it worked in my favour a bit. I went to a rave, they hired me in, and I was about to perform for the first time, and I did. I got my money, I did the shit they asked for, and it actually wasn’t that bad.

“But then I tried to leave the club, and a group of guys followed me out. And they offered me more and more money, ‘cause they wanted to have sex with me. They were a couple of drunk bastards, and like hell I was gonna. I told them no, they didn’t listen, and tried to drag me back into the club to do it with ‘em.

“I was screaming and kicking the whole time, and they started to beat me up ‘cause I kept rejecting them. Over and over I told them no, so they beat the shit out of me. Told me I was too pretty to not touch. Told me that since I was ungrateful for being so pretty, I deserved to have my face caved it. They were so fuckin’ angry that I hadn’t sunk low enough to their level.

“During the attack, they called me all sorts of shit, but one phrase really stuck with me. One of them called me a ‘party poisoning whore’.” Party smiled, but it wasn’t quite right. It reminded Ghoul of the smiles they would wear when they were shooting Dracs, twisted, a little too full of teeth, like they were baring their teeth before getting ready to growl. “Party poisoning whore. They got upset that I ruined their fun time by being such a prude bitch. Ha.

“Anyway, that really stuck with me. They beat me to a pulp, and then they just kinda left me in what used to be the parking lot. They thought they killed me, I guess, but really I think I passed out a little. And DJ Hot Chimp found me a couple hours later, after the drunk bastards split.”

Party ran a hand through their hair, that grimace like smirk still plastered on their face. “The name stuck with me. I liked it, because fuck yeah, I wanted to be the poison to bastards like them. I want to ruin their fun, I want to poison their parties. Shitty people like them who can’t take no, who think they deserve whatever the fuck they want- I wanna fuck them up just like they tried to fuck up me. I wanna fuck up any entitled bastard’s fun.”

Party laughed, dry and humourless. “I wanna be the poison that fucked over BLi’s parties. And I guess I’m living that dream... anyway, you already know what happens next.”

No, Ghoul did not. He didn’t know fucking shit about how any of them met. He didn’t know how Kobra and Poison meet up. He has no idea how Show Pony got involved, of how the hell they know Jet Star. He doesn’t even know how they’re connected to Doctor D. He arrived late in the game, when they were already rising up in popularity. 

And nobody in the desert liked to dwell on the past.

He thought about letting it go, but instead, “Actually, I don’t. What the hell happens next?”

Party tilts their head. “Huh?”

“I don’t know how you and Jet Star and Kobra Kid and shit meet. Y’all never told me.”

Party looks surprised. “Really? I figured we’da told ya by now.”

“Well?”

“Alright, alright.” Party thought for a moment. “So. I became a regular at DJ Hot Chimp’s club. I worked for her. Kobra went looking for me not long after I started working there. He knew I’d breached the city, since it was kind of a public affair, ha ha... and news travels surprisingly far in the desert. But they didn’t know where I was, just that I was in the desert. Anyway, Show Pony came to the club one day, ‘cause they’re good friends with Hot Chimp, and they saw me and realised I was Kobra’s brother, ‘cause I didn’t go by a moniker yet. I was still going by my city name.

“Show Pony takes me to Dr. D’s, where Kobra’s been staying at. Cherri Cola had picked him up when he first breached, and he’s been working odd jobs for Dr. D since Cherri introduced them to each other. And I met up with my brother. So we gang up, and he teaches me about a rebellion Dr. D was trying to form, and of course I was like hell yeah, I’m gonna join, ‘cause BLi really fucked me over, and I’d happily get them back.

“Me and Kobes started to run jobs for the doc, and eventually, Dr. D introduced us to Jet Star. He’d lost his crew to a nasty firefight, and was looking for a new one. He was hellbent on getting back at BLi, so we took him in. We became the Terrific Three.” Party laughed at the name. “Jet Star came up with that. And we worked together for a good while, and then we met you. Now, you know the rest after that?”

Fun Ghoul definitely knew what happened next. He tried to mug them. He knew of the trio, as did most people in the desert, because they had gained a rather speedy popularity for their colourful vandalism and their jobs against BLi. He’d never seen what they looked like, though, so when he robbed them, he thought they were just run of the mill fellow killjoys.

They were not.

They beat his fucking ass.

All he wanted was some god damn food, and he was broke, and those Power Pups were right there god damn it. He was so fucking hungry.

They beat his ass, knocked him unconscious, and then they felt bad about it when they saw he was just stealing food, so they let him into the diner to heal up. He remember all this with an intense clarity.

When he woke up, Party was prodding at his face. “Oh hey, you’re awake. Now, who the hell are you?”

Ghoul spat on them. Not his best move, but he’d already made a shit impression anyway. “Fuck you!”

“Huh. Fun name. Do you know who we are?”

“I don’t give a shit.”

“We’re the Terrific Three!” Jet Star cheered, before frowning. “Yeah, the name’s a work in progress.”

“Do you know who he is?” Party asked.   
Jet Star wandered over and squinted. Jet Star had been born and raised in the desert, and everyone knew him, and he knew everyone. Fun Ghoul grimaced.

“Oh yeah. You’re that little spit fire, Fun Ghoul, right?” He grunted in acknowledgement. “Oh yeah, your bloodthirstiness is like, legendary throughout the desert. Your pretty good with a grenade, and you blow shit up all the time. I think we’ve actually met before.”

Party leaned in his face again. “Demolitions? Hell yeah. Since I’m feeling generous, and honestly, a little bit of pity for you, do you wanna join us? We got food, you got bombs, I think it’s a good trade off.”

And then Ghoul declined. And then he felt his stomach rumble. And then he agreed.

And then, they became the kick ass Fab Four, a band of badass killjoys who roamed the desert in an effort to help the fight against BLi.

It was a fun story to tell at campfire get togethers.

Usually he leaves out the ‘they beat his fucking ass’ but the others don’t hesitate to correct him. 

They sat there for a while, listening to the silence of the night. Fun Ghoul spent that time to absorb all the information he’d been given, thinking. He always did wonder why DJ Hot Chimp and Party Poison were so close, and finding out they worked at her club made so much more sense now.

“Do they know?”

“Hm?”

“Do they know how you got your name? Kobra and Jet?”

Party frowned. “No. Kobra doesn’t even know that I worked as a stripper. He thinks I worked as Hot Chimp’s assistant, ‘cause that’s what I told him. I didn’t want him to worry about me, you know? But Jet knows I worked there, ‘cause he went there while I performed one time.” Party laughed. “Not gonna lie, Jet Star couldn’t look me in the eye when we first met. He was so fucking shy, but at that point it’s like, you’ve already seen my shit, why bother with modesty?”

Ghoul chuckled. Of course Jet Star would get flustered. “Jet Star’s such a fucking gentle man, I literally can not imagine him ever having fun at a strip club.”

“From the looks of it, he did not.” Party was laughing, genuinely. “He was so uncomfortable the whole time he was there. He barely even looked at me the whole time, just stared at the table cloth. He looked so fucking sad.”

Ghoul giggled with Party. He could picture it perfectly, Jet Star standing awkwardly in the back near one of the tables, staring at the table, his cheeks flushed red. His old gang must’ve dragged him out there. “Oh my god.”

“Yeah! But anyway, he knows. But they don’t know how I got my name. I just told them I got it during a raid, a solo mission.” 

“Then why’s you tell me?”

“You’d know I was lying. You’re good at picking up that kind of shit,” Party said, shrugging. “Plus, it was mostly just so I could vent. You’re a good listener, and you’re not half bad at keeping secrets, unlike some people.” They were definitely referring to Show Pony and Cherri Cola. Show Pony was just a loud mouth, and Cherri cracked easily under pressure. 

“Ah.” Ghoul remained quiet for a moment, before adding, “I’m gonna beat the shit out of the guys that beat you up.”

“I’m afraid you’re a little late. They’re all fucking dead.”

“Really?”

“Yeah. Their bodies were found in a local motel in zone three. Apparently, they’ve been preying on young killjoys, making them do sexual shit for them in exchange for money and food and shit, and I guess someone decided to take them out. Nobody knows who killed them.”

From the manic gleam in Party’s eyes, Ghoul was sure he could guess who did it. “Well, I would have liked to give them a piece of my bazooka myself, but they got what they deserve.”

“Hell yeah they did.” Party flipped some hair out of their eyes. 

“Do you ever go back? To the club?”

“Yeah.” Party dimmed. “Sometimes, when we need extra cash, I go back and work. Chimp always welcomes me back. I think she feels guilty for the times I got beat up at the club, but it’s not her fault.”

He frowned. “Times?”

Party hugged their knees tightly to the chest. “Sometimes, I still get asked for sex. And people just don’t understand the concept of no. So they try and beat me up. That first time wasn’t my last while I worked there. And sometimes it’s not even because of sex, it’s just people wanna see what’s in my pants. ‘Pull down your panties! Show us what kind of a man you are!’, you know, that kid of shit. And of course, I refuse, so they beat me up too. But I’ve gotten a hell of a lot better at fighting back, obviously, so it’s not a big deal anymore. I pull out my gun and they back down easy now.”

Ghoul frowned. “Shit man, and you go back to that?”

“Sometimes we need money. It’s easy.” They shrug. “Besides, I always tell Jet when I go back to the rave. He already knows I worked there, and while he doesn’t like it, I figure I ought to tell someone where I’m going. I’m not completely stupid.”

“But it’s still dangerous-“

“So’s going after BLi.” Party rolled their eyes. “Cherri’s already give me the whole spiel of being careful. Besides, they’re just a bunch of drunk bastards.”

Ghoul remained silent. He didn’t even realise all this shit happened under his nose. Sometimes Party came back late at night with bruises, but they’d brush it off as them picking fights. He didn’t think twice about it.

They sat in the cold for a while, watching the stars. Ghoul didn’t even realise how much he didn’t know about his best friend, how much of their life was just missing... But now it all made sense.

He finally understood why Party acted the way they did. They didn’t like being suddenly touched, they always had a strange expression when they feet compliment for their attractiveness. Party’s always had a hard time trusting others too, never letting their mask leave their face when they walk out of the diner. Hell, Fun Ghoul didn’t even get to see their face for months after he joined the team. They always had a strong aversion to alcohol too, and now that made a hell of a lot of sense.

“I think that’s enough heart to heart for tonight,” Party began, and slowly they stood up. They leaned against the door heavily, and if Ghoul looked closely, he could see a dry red spot on their shirt, which stuck to their ribs like it was glued. Bruises ghosted their neck, and Party unconsciously popped their jacket collar to hide them. They had gotten in a fight while they were out driving. He wondered if Party would tell him the story behind this encounter.

Ghoul sighed. “Let’s get you patched up.”

Party Poison watched him with big eyes, and hesitantly, they grabbed his hand. “I’m glad we talked.”

Party Poison never said thank you, nor did they apologize. That rubbed a lot of people the wrong way because of that, but once you get to know them, you realize they had their own way of saying things. And right now, they were saying thanks.

Ghoul smiled. “Any time.”

**Author's Note:**

> idk. 
> 
> also the story party was telling? yeah it was an allusion to the song party poison. and of course, title is based on the party poison lyrics.


End file.
